Intimacy
by MeganLucy26
Summary: noun: close familiarity or friendship. a collection of booth and brennan prompt fills.
1. sleepover

**holla amigos i am back once again with a brand new fic, except its not really an actual fic but more like somewhere im going to be posting prompt fills both long and short, and sweet and fluffy. i got the idea from being tagged in a list of actions that show two people having an intimacy with one another outside of sex (thanks rina!). im also taking prompts for this fic (or for others) on bonesfanfic on twitter, which is where you'll also find fanfic recommendations and for the writers out there access to some prompt lists once i find the time to actually make or find some lol (five weeks today until im exam free, yay!).**

 **anywho, thank you to the folks over on twitter who helped me decide on which prompt fill to upload first (at time of typing this prompt won with 59% of votes). hopefully i'll have another upload within the next fortnight or so. don't forget to leave a review :) –megan x**

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 ** _sleepover_**

 _dedicated to the bones twitter fandom, cause y'all are awesome._

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The night before they'd fallen into her bed exhausted, too tired to contemplate an alternative, still processing Vincent's death at the hands of Jacob Broadsky and the subsequent events that had followed – including the new phase of their own relationship, where they find comfort in the others arms as night passes and dawn breaks, bringing mornings of slow, languid kisses and softly spoken words, offering a shoulder to cry on and someone to rely on.

The second morning they wake up together, arms and legs intertwined, heads sharing a pillow, breathing in sync, he is the first to acknowledge this new them – _have a sleepover with me tonight?_

There is still an innocence to Temperance Brennan – despite everything she has seen, learnt and done in her life – he acknowledged this a long time ago, and has had a front row seat in watching her discover everything she missed out on, watching her eyes brighten and smile widen with a youthful glow that betrays the professional exterior she attempts to maintain to protect the walls she had built around herself when her life began to fall apart. He has also had a front row seat in watching said walls crumble.

She responds as expected, with wide eyes and a smile brimming with excitement. Her happiness is contagious, he finds, as they suddenly go from lazy words spoken centimetres from the others lips to uncontrollable glee and laughter as they plan their evening.

Evening becomes afternoon when before four they've already moved from her apartment to his and are constructing their own fort of blankets and pillows in front of the TV in his living room. They order pizza and consume several beers while making their way through Disney films she hasn't seen and cuddling beneath his duvet.

Cuddling inevitably leads to more, until they're playing card games already naked, eyes glossy and dilated and wondering shamelessly south to skin that they have only just begun to explore after years of abstinence. Card games lead to board games dug from beneath Parker's bed, played while sharing a carton of mint chocolate ice cream until they're both accusing the other of cheating around their laughter. Truth or Dare leads to revelations, which lead to actions until they're both giddily exhausted and curled beneath the duvet once more, closer to dawn than they are to midnight.

Falling asleep beside her, listening to her steady breaths, he realises only they could do it this way – share declarations of love and commitment, make promises and discuss a future – _their_ future, beneath the sheets of a fort they'd made – and subsequently ruined in their haste to lose themselves in the other once more.


	2. holding hands

**so much for updating within two weeks whoops. anywho, just another little prompt fill that turned out better than i thought it would so yay me. on another note ive officially finished exams now so hopefully that'll mean more frequent updating if my inspiration ever decides to return - if not just keep bugging me about it cause that usually works for chloe, or you know, drop me a review, they're always helpful ;) x**

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 _ **holding hands**_

 _dedicated to chloe, because i like making her sob with fanfic nearly as much as she likes making me sob with her angsty ideas and endless stream of emily pics._

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At first, on the rare occasion they found themselves palm to palm, fingers intertwined, it had been an act of support. Her reaching out to lay a hand on his arm as he recalled details of a child's birthday party, witnessed through the scope of his rifle; hands clutched tightly as they skated around an empty rink, his assurances – _I'm never gonna make you fall, I'm always here_ – filling the space, his hands reaching out to support her each time she so much as panicked.

Letting go became a little bit more difficult each time it happened, as their partnership blossomed into a friendship and into something that they both failed to acknowledge – that is, until the facade crumbled, because she was a scientist who didn't know how to change and he was a gambler who failed to play every card.

They hold hands in an airport six weeks later, making promises they may not be able to keep because she is going to a jungle and he is going to a war zone. This time, it is more than support – it is a goodbye, it is an apology, it is fear, and it is words they're both too afraid to say.

It is a long time before they hold hands again.

The next time is a trigger – the day of the blackout, as they're sitting in the candle light even after light has been restored, after conversations and confessions, when it is decided it is no longer _if_ it – the two of them – will happen, but _when_. It is after wishes have been burnt and released to the universe and it is just them, joking and bickering and sharing popcorn, brushing hands until there is no more to eat and they're holding hands to reassure themselves that they're here, together.

They find themselves in similar moments over the following weeks, after paperwork has been pushed aside in favour of eating takeout in front of the TV. They inevitably bicker over who gets to pick what they watch, and it is usually the winner that takes the others hands, squeezing and offering a small smile as they settle side by side on the couch.

It it fitting that when they finally cross the final line, together in his bed after a day of physical and emotional turmoil, they're holding hands – it is everything: support, comfort, fear, and words they're finally ready to say and hear.

Afterwards, it is no longer possible to keep track.

There are the small everyday moments – clasped hands in the early morning light, feeling the first tentative movements of the baby they had made beneath their fingers – and there are the moments that will stay with them both for their thirty, or forty, or fifty years – her almost breaking his fingers as she delivered their daughter and their intertwined fingers on the tiny baby's back just moments after she takes her first breath.

It becomes normal, an act of support, of comfort, of reassurance, of love; but holding hands for the first time after they have gotten married, rings still warming against their skin – it no longer needs a reason, an explanation, they hold hands just because.


End file.
